


Transcending Starlight

by horologiiums



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Humor, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-13 13:52:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21495352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horologiiums/pseuds/horologiiums
Summary: The feast had two purposes: to offer the Alliance army a chance to recover from the conflict at Gronder Field, and to allow the overworked, exhausted Byleth a moment of repose before Claude stole her away to the Goddess Tower, where he would confess his most cherished feelings for her....If only his fellow Golden Deer would stop getting in his way.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 26
Kudos: 190





	1. Chapter 1

It quickly became a rare sight to see Claude wandering the monastery after the battle at Gronder Field. Upon returning from the march, he almost immediately cooped himself up in either the Cardinals’ room or his own personal quarters, announcing that he needed all the time he could get to properly plot the Alliance army’s next course of action: capturing Fort Merceus. He was concocting a “golden scheme”, as many around Garreg Mach had begun whispering, and the last thing that anyone should do was interrupt him in the middle of his planning. Unless they wanted to be turned into wyvern feed.

As a result of his isolated state, Byleth almost thought she was seeing a ghost when she spotted Claude strolling around the reception hall, a hand on his hip and the other cupping his chin as he contemplated something.

Odd, she thought, considering how adamant he had been about not wanting any disturbances in the wake of his strategizing. Yet there he was, nonchalantly looking around the hall, approaching tables and inspecting them, as if he couldn’t bear to see a single fleck of dirt on any of their surfaces. He even ran a gloved finger along some of them, frowning when he examined his fingertip afterwards.

Byleth couldn’t handle simply watching him go about his strange behavior anymore; she strode over and he noticed her before she had even called out to him. He greeted her with a small grin but nothing more, so Byleth took the initiative.

“Aren’t you working on your golden scheme?” she almost felt regretful that she hadn’t started with a “hello” but Claude didn’t seem to mind.

Or rather, he didn’t mind her lack of proper greeting, but he most certainly minded the way she referred to his plotting. “Ugh, is that what people are calling it?” he grimaced, looking positively disturbed by the nickname but he was quick to shrug it off. “Nevermind, I don’t want to know. But yes, I am. Or, _ was. _ Unfortunately, I’m gonna need to wait a few days before I can make further progress.”

Byleth blinked, unsure as to what Claude meant by that. He had been locked away for nearly a full week by that point, and she knew that it took much more time than that for his genius brain to start giving out on him.

She looked at the hand he had used to touch the tables, then back to his face. He couldn’t have been shamelessly lollygagging, could he? Not likely. He seemed to have outgrown that conduct. An external roadblock? Possibly. If he was in need of supplies that the monastery lacked, then time would be needed to procure them. But would simply waiting around for the materials to show up be wise? While the Alliance army still had majority of the month left to prepare before their assault on Fort Merceus, time waited for no one. The remaining weeks would be over before they even realized.

Byleth trusted Claude’s judgment, but still, she had to ask. “Shouldn’t you be using all of the time you’ve been given? Can we afford to put your golden” — she bit her tongue, remembering his scowl — _ “ _ to put _ it _ off for a few days?”

Claude winked at her, not seeming concerned in the slightest. “We can and we will. Besides, even if we _ couldn’t _ wait, this part of the plan is out of my hands. We have no choice.” Byleth only felt more confused, but decided to settle on the notion that he was waiting for external supplies to arrive. It was fair enough of an excuse, but couldn’t the army do more to help him out? She was unable to suggest offering her aid when he started up again. “So, until then, I have another idea in mind. To help pass the time, if you will.”

His smile looked awfully mischievous and it only made Byleth reluctant to prod him to tell her what he was thinking. But it hadn’t been the first time that she had fallen victim to the charming glint in his eye. She found that she had no choice but to inquire about his idea. “Which is?”

His grin became wider. At least he seemed happy that she feigned curiosity. Not that she _ wasn’t _ genuinely curious but she wouldn’t let him know that when they had more pressing issues to attend to. “I think I speak for everyone when I say we’re all tired from the battle at Gronder Field.” While his beam said one thing, his tone was mildly grim. The conflict from only a little over a week ago was still weighing heavily on the entire army. It wasn’t a fight they could so easily forget and spirits remained at an all time low. Apparently that didn’t sit well with Claude, because his cheery voice returned in full swing. “What better way to unwind than to hold a grand feast!”

“A grand feast.” Byleth meant it as a question, but she deadpanned his words back at him the second they touched her ears.

It wasn’t… a bad idea. It was a very good idea, actually. The past week had been slow moving in regards to most everything that needed to be done around the monastery. There was a silent agreeance that everyone needed more time than usual to mend. But if things kept proceeding as they were, it would only grow increasingly more difficult to raise the army’s morale when they needed it at its peak the most. Forcing a fighting spirit into the soldiers lacked the sympathy that was required to get everyone back into shape and would only cause a backlash, but an evening to unwind with a feast, to remember that they were all still alive despite their hardships…

Claude’s voice cut into Byleth’s train of thought, and a massive sigh was almost forcibly yanked out of her as he clarified. “Well… as big of a feast as we can make it.”

* * *

It was a relief when Byleth, after some physical poking and light nagging, finally agreed to his idea of holding a feast. She had made some good points as to why it may not have been the most brilliant idea he’d had — “Do we really have time?” “Do we have enough food?” “Are you _ sure _ your golden scheme can wait?” — but ultimately, she gave in. He wondered if she saw it more as an obligation to question him rather than actually _ needing _ to; when he had shared his plan with her, he spotted that unguarded look in her eyes as she seriously considered his suggestion. There was no doubt that she had come to the same conclusion he had: the longer they waited to raise the spirits of the army, the harder it would hit all of them in the future.

Besides, the timing was more or less perfect. Claude knew his retainer, who remained stationed in Derdriu, well. It would take no more than three days for his request to reach Nader, and for Nader to respond back with the approval or denial of his appeal. After that, it would be back to the drawing board, whether the Almyran army was ferried into Fódlan for the final stages of his scheme or not.

In the meantime, with approximately a three day wait, Claude could address the other issue that needed managing. Or rather, _ issues. _

The issue of the army.

And the matter of Byleth.

In truth, Claude’s plan to host a feast wasn’t created solely for the sake of the Alliance army. He was hitting two birds with one stone — the second bird being a way to get Byleth to relax, to relieve her from her tension, and then, finally, to invite her to the Goddess Tower where he would admit his feelings to her.

Gronder Field had been close. _ Too _ close. Had Claude not spotted the sniper hiding out in the underbrush, arrow drawn and aimed directly at Byleth, she would have been killed. Her injuries had already been mounting and if she took a hit from an arrow at such close range, her life would certainly have ended.

It was in that instant when Claude realized that either of them could die without a moment’s notice. They could have died that day or they could have died the next. Of course neither of them had any intention of dying, but war wasn’t something that was so easily predicted. Whether they wanted it or not, the possibility of losing their lives every time they went into battle was high. Claude couldn’t waste the chances that were being given to him. He didn’t need his feelings to be reciprocated, he just needed her to know the truth of them.

He was unsure of when it began, when he had started falling for Byleth. It definitely hadn’t been during his days as a student — if he had had a crush on _ anything _ about Byleth back then, it was exclusively on her secrets and ability to wield the Sword of the Creator — but he also knew that it hadn’t been after he reunited with her on the day of the monastery’s one thousandth year anniversary. Some time, during the five years in which they were separated, when Byleth could have been _ dead _ for all he knew, he had begun falling.

It was in her absence when he truly understood just how invaluable her presence had become in his life. Had it not been for Byleth, Claude knew for certain that he would have never opened his heart up to anyone, let alone trust those whom he referred to as allies. In the past, relationships were nothing more than transactions to Claude. Companions were merely a means to an end.

But bearing witness to Byleth bringing the misfits of the Golden Deer class together under her tutelage and guidance… it was something Claude had never seen before. He had grown up alone, isolated, relying on no one but himself. Placing his life in the hands of external forces was a surefire way to get himself killed, but when he observed Byleth, when he fell under her watchful eye as one of her beloved students… something changed. The towering walls that he had built up around his heart started to crack.

He felt foolish for not having noticed just how much of an impact she had on him until she vanished before his very eyes.

Regardless, Claude didn’t pay those specific emotions too much mind. What reason was there to? It wasn’t as though he had simply given up on her returning, but on the slim chance that she _ had _ died, that he _ didn’t _ find her waiting for him atop the Goddess Tower, he knew that it would have been easier to lay his feelings to rest having chosen to ignore them. And while she may not have arrived there _ before _ him, she _ did _ return, alive and well, explaining that she had been _ sleeping _ for five whole years.

After that, his adoration started to attack him with full force but he’d kept it on the down low, figured he could wait until after the war ended to make his confession.

But he’d received a rude awakening thanks to Gronder Field. There wasn’t always an option to retreat. There was no guarantee that everyone would make it out of the war alive, no matter how flawless his tactics were.

Claude needed to tell Byleth. He needed to tell her, within the next three days, how much she had come to mean to him. It was the deadline he had set for himself and he wasn’t about to screw it up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: idk, I really don't like slow burns. *accidentally writes a slow burn
> 
> toast? writing about Gronder Field WITHOUT it being super angsty as fuck???? I got this idea a while ago & it took forever to write because I realized at about 5000 words in that it was a slow burn & that just completely turned me off from my own fic LOL but I decided to share it anyway because I spent way too much time on it, even if it turned out pretty... not good. ww
> 
> thanks if you made it this far! I hope you enjoyed? chapter 2 will be up.. sooner rather than later, I would say.
> 
> coughs, also I have a [twitter](https://twitter.com/toast_ryu) & no Claude/Byleth shipper friends, send help I need people to cry with


	2. Chapter 2

Despite it being a last minute decision, the feast went off without a hitch two evenings later. Claude made a mental note to himself to thank Judith again for providing an abundance of food for his army when they joined forces at Ailell.

Even before the dinner hour struck, there was a shift in the monastery’s atmosphere. There was more chatter, more laughing and joking amongst soldiers. Some of the young children that the Church had sheltered — who were still too young to fully come to grasp the gravity of the conflict, but nevertheless had been affected by the grim ambience anyway — were running around the grounds, playing chase or tag or whatever it was they called it.

By the time evening was upon them, the army crowded into the reception hall, eagerly waiting for the feast to begin. And before long, the chefs from the dining hall wheeled in cart after cart of food. Under Claude’s supervision, every table in the hall had the same dishes placed upon them, with just enough servings for the ten people per table seating arrangements. Sauteed jerky, vegetable stir-fry, pickled rabbit skewers and a large variety of fish dishes were provided as the main course. When it came to dessert, each table was given a small cake. For a feast, it wasn’t particularly the “grand” that Claude had in mind, but it was already getting the first job he had intended for it accomplished, and he couldn’t be upset about that.

He could, however, be upset about the fact that by the time he seated himself next to his former classmates and professor, nearly all of the food on the table was gone. Only nine of them occupied the space as opposed to the ten of every neighboring table, but one of those nine people was Raphael, who could eat enough food for four— no, _ five _ stomachs in a single sitting.

“I’m so sorry.” Ignatz leaned diagonally across the table towards Claude, cupping a hand against one side of his face so as to keep his voice from travelling to the man sitting next to him. “I tried telling him not to take seconds until you joined us but—”

“Hey, Claude! You’re here!” Raphael boomed louder than an explosion, cutting Ignatz off mid-sentence. His radiant, contented smile made it almost easy to ignore the small pieces of meat stuck to his chin and the sauce staining the napkin he’d tucked into the collar of his shirt. It also made it extremely difficult for Claude to be truly angered at him; despite his hulking stature, Raphael looked as happy as a ten year old receiving gifts on his day of birth. “You’d better start eating before all the food’s gone! It’s _ really _ tasty!”

Regardless of the thoughts he had just established of Raphael, Claude felt a brow twitch. He forced a grin, but it took more effort than usual to make it look convincing. “Glad you think so.” If anything, at least he was being honest about that. “And don’t mind if I do.”

A quick glance around at his dinner companions’ plates informed Claude that it was safe to take however much food he wanted, so he graciously helped himself to most of what was left. No _ way _ was he going to let Raphael steal any more from him. Besides, by that point, Claude was starving; his stomach felt hollow and had been gurgling at him since noon, pleading to be filled. He sincerely hoped that no one had heard the noises in passing. Such a display was very unbecoming of the leader of the Leicester Alliance.

As he sat and began to eat at last, his friends were all finishing up their own meals. Chatter ensued around him as a result, but since trying to eat and talk at the same time was a rather difficult — and not to mention impolite — task, Claude kept quiet, only able to listen to the various conversations happening around him.

Raphael, having finished the remainder of his second helping, was quick to complain about still being hungry. Ignatz scolded him, saying something about “thinking ahead” and how the army needed to preserve their food stores. Lorenz, who sat adjacent to Ignatz, jumped in, explaining that “being aware of remaining supplies makes one truly noble.”

Claude decided to stop listening at that.

He directed his attention to Leonie and Lysithea, who were seated on the opposite side of Lorenz, and Marianne, to the right of himself and directly across from the other two girls.

“How’d you like the food?” Leonie had her forearms resting on the tabletop and she leaned on them as she spoke, trying to project her voice over the sounds of the busy reception hall.

“It was quite delicious.” Soft-spoken Marianne seemed to be making her best effort to raise her voice as well, but she was still nearly as quiet as a kitten. “Lysithea, you didn’t eat very much. Are you feeling unwell?”

Beside Leonie, Lysithea shook her head. She had never been the biggest eater but Claude had a feeling he knew where her mind was. “I feel fine. I was just… saving room for our dessert…” she paused and Claude had to control every fibre of his being to not tease her when her stare flicked back and forth between Marianne’s gaze and the dessert situated in the middle of the table. “Can we split the cake now?”

“Doesn’t it look divine?” Hilda’s voice suddenly sounded from the left of Claude. Apparently she had started listening in on the girls’ conversation at some point. “It’s a bit small but there’s not much we can do in times of strife!” There was truth to her words but her tone was cheery and successfully prevented the discussion from turning somber.

After her remark, Hilda cut the cake into ten equal pieces — no doubt Lysithea and Raphael would end up fighting over the extra piece — and thankfully, Claude had finished his main course just in time. It would be easy to catch up in conversation and he would no longer have to sit in silence like an outsider as he had been for the past while.

In the time she spent standing as she split the cake, Claude glanced at Byleth, seated on Hilda’s left.

She didn’t notice him staring at her, she looked far too enamored by the masterful technique Hilda executed as she spun the cake platter around. Ever since he had joined his friends, Claude hadn’t spoken a word to Byleth, hadn’t even looked at her.

Admittedly, he was anxious that his plan wouldn’t work. Byleth worked herself too hard, mostly for what Claude felt like was his sake. He’d roped her into the position of figurehead for the Church of Seiros to further his own ends, and while she did agree to cooperate, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. He knew that she was strong and capable as both mercenary and professor, but war was a completely different matter. It made no exceptions for the people it took its toll on, himself included.

But seeing her there, one of those beautiful, tiny smiles gracing her lips when Hilda handed her a slice of cake, her face relieved from all previous tension he had seen tarnishing it for the past couple of months, Claude knew that his scheme had succeeded.

Well, most of it, anyway.

There was an incessant flutter in his chest when he thought about what would come after everyone filed out of the hall for the night, leaving him to steal Byleth away to the Goddess Tower and out of sight...

_ Get it together, Claude! You don’t get nervous! _

Even though it was a confession of his deepest feelings, there was little anything remotely romantic about the gesture. Claude had no desire to force Byleth to return his feelings, nor, should she return them on her own, did he have any plans to whisk her away to some passionate getaway. There was no part three to his script, just the need to enlighten her on his truth.

Yet there he sat, gawking at Byleth like he was a kid with a crush on an untouchable, sacred deity from years passed.

He realized, then, that she’d noticed him. Eye contact only lasted for a single second but for Claude, it felt like so much more. Her wide, mint eyes bored into his curiously and it sent a blazing heat down his spine and around his chest, squeezing tightly. Her looks were always so honest, so sincere and from the heart, never that of disguise or illusion. She always bared her real self, especially to him, _ always _to him, and in turn, Claude offered her the same of his own soul.

Around Byleth, he felt that he could always be defenseless, unshielded, hopelessly vulnerable, because when she looked at him, she saw him for who he was, not _ what _he was.

Truly, Claude was in—

Hilda reseated herself between them and forcibly snapped their line of sight in half. She slid a plate that had a slice of cake on it in front of Claude before redirecting her attention back to Byleth.

“Anyway, I really do think that hair clip would look _ amazing _on you, Professor! I’ll give it to you after council tomorrow!”

“Well… if you insist.”

It took a few breaths for it all to register — that his silent “conversation” with Byleth had come to an abrupt, swift end — but when it did, Claude soundlessly clicked his tongue behind closed lips. He poked at his cake with his eating utensil.

_ Damn it, Hilda. _

* * *

Hours passed and before long, the feast attendees began making their way out of the reception hall. Staff from the kitchen cleared every table of their empty food platters until nothing remained, as if the feast had been no more than a collective dream.

By that point, Claude had expected at least a few of his companions to have turned in for the night, or at least wandered off somewhere else for the remainder of the evening. But there they all sat, still chatting away like they had all the time in the world. It wasn’t as though Claude didn’t enjoy seeing his friends drinking in every last drop of the night’s relaxing environment, but…

He looked beyond Hilda, at Byleth.

Byleth, who was still smiling. Byleth, who carefully pushed some of her soft hair behind her ear. Byleth, who spoke in the gentlest of voices as she consoled Raphael for the third time after he had lost the “battle of the tenth cake slice” to Lysithea.

She looked so peaceful, so free of worry and hardship.

But it wouldn’t last forever. And Claude was running out of time.

He didn’t want to have to do this, knew that if he pulled Byleth away when all of his friends were present, they would follow them wherever they went to spy. He didn’t doubt his own capabilities of being able to shake them off his trail, but that required extra effort and plotting.

Still, he had little choice. He would handle it as it happened.

Claude opened his mouth. “Say, Teac—”

Hilda’s hands slammed on the table’s surface and she rose from her seat, effectively silencing everyone who sat around her. “Listen up!” She ordered, quickly scanning their faces to make sure she had their attention. “I’ve come up with a brilliant — if I may borrow Claude’s favorite word — _ scheme!” _

_ “Heeey, _ hey, hey!” Claude glared up at Hilda, his words serving as a warning. It wasn’t as though she was wrong but he wouldn’t stand for her poking fun at him. And he definitely wouldn’t stand for her interrupting him for the second time that day. But she didn't need to know that part.

Hilda didn’t seem to notice his call, and if she did, she ignored it, because she continued without missing a beat. “Since none of us passed out from overeating like _ someone _we know—”

Claude muttered. “I resent that.”

“—I propose we take this opportunity to enjoy the night to its fullest!” she wore a pleased smirk on her face which shook her companions into a brief silence.

Lorenz was the one to break it after clearing his throat. “What did you have in mind, Hilda?”

“So kind of you to ask, future Count Gloucester!” Hilda winked at him and straightened her back, removing her hands from the table. She extended an index finger and stretched her arm above her head, essentially pointing to the ceiling. After a deep breath, she brandished her idea as if it were a sword hidden in plain sight on her hip. “We, the former students of the Golden Deer house, are going to climb to the highest terrace of the monastery’s tallest tower and stargaze!”

If Hilda hadn’t shell shocked her friends before, she most certainly did then.

Claude blinked at her and a quick glance around the table proved everyone shared his dumbstruck expression.

Stargazing? Where the hell had that come from? It wasn’t as though Claude was entirely opposed to the thought — stars had always held sentimental value for him and he enjoyed their company — but the night was nearly at its close. The next day, they would be back to work, back to training and strategizing. He would receive his response from Nader and would spend the moon’s remaining days locked up in his quarters to finalize the army’s next move. The feast had been enjoyable but it completed its main mission, there was no reason to wear themselves out all over again because of a silly whim.

Not to mention that Claude still hadn’t gotten Byleth alone yet, and that he definitely _ wasn’t _ hunting for excuses to end the festivities before they went on any longer.

Claude grounded himself after a few too many seconds of quiet. Maybe if he refused Hilda before anyone else could speak, they’d all feel inclined to agree with him.

Before he could even consider how to properly articulate himself, Hilda started again. Claude was caught off guard by how different she sounded, how the solemn quiver in her voice greatly contrasted the usual giddiness she had expressed only moments prior. “It’s been such a long time since we could all just… talk, like we used to. We haven’t had a day off like this in forever. Actually, I don’t think we’ve had a day like this since… since the day we won the Battle of the Eagle and Lion.”

Claude flinched, the memories of Gronder Field from two weeks earlier and the ones from five _ years _ earlier blending together. 

Hilda was right. It was at Claude’s own request that the students of the Officers Academy get together that evening to break down the walls between their respective houses with a grand feast. He hadn’t forgotten, wouldn’t soon forget it, and yet it was only after Hilda vocally strung the two occasions together that he was able to make the connection himself.

What convenient, hellish timing he had…

He was unsure if he was relieved or exasperated when Hilda reverted back to her merry demeanor. “That’s why we should enjoy this night until the very end! Until the last star disappears into the sunrise!”

“You want us to stay awake _ all night? _” Lysithea gawked, her jaw hanging open in utter disbelief.

“Unless you don’t think you’ll be able to?” Hilda batted her eyelashes, much to Lysithea’s dismay.

She huffed, folding her arms and turning away. “Of _ course _ I’m _ able _ to!”

That seemed to have settled the discussion. Everyone rose from their spots enthusiastically and prepared to follow Hilda out of the reception hall.

Everyone, including Byleth.

Claude hadn’t moved from where he sat, an unsettling sweat breaking out on his forehead. Byleth stepped behind him as she crossed the table toward her former students and his head swung from left to right, watching her go. The air that stirred as she passed suddenly held the scent of jasmine and peony, the scent of _ her, _ and it tickled his senses like a light kiss.

No. No, no, no. He wouldn’t let his scheme dismantle due to Hilda’s meddling, of all things. He wouldn’t allow it. He _ couldn’t _allow it. Not when he was so close, not when everything had gone — mostly — according to plan. It wasn’t just his confession that was at stake, but his own pride as well.

Claude’s hand shot out before he fully registered it had and he grabbed hold of Byleth’s wrist. He would never have described her as “small” or “weak” but in that instant, Byleth felt so unbelievably fragile, to the point where Claude was worried that if he squeezed too hard, he would unintentionally break her.

Her gaze met his, her pretty eyes questioning. Her lips were parted a touch, as if she was about to speak but Claude beat her to it. “Go on ahead, everyone. We’ll catch up.”

None of them halted in their tracks after they acknowledged his words — thankfully, they were too caught up in the stargazing activity — save for Hilda. She whirled around, hands on her hips as she tried to emulate a dominant pose, but her young, girlish appearance stole all authority that she was trying to exhibit. “Nuh-uh! There’s no point to this if you two aren’t there!” Her voice was high pitched and whiny as she chastised them but Claude could read her like an open book. He wouldn’t fall for her tricks.

“I just need to talk to Teach about something.” He reassured her smoothly in spite of the turmoil that rolled through his chest like a storm cloud. It was a wonder to even Claude himself how he was able to keep his voice calm and steady. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Byleth angle her head to the side. “We’ll only be a few minutes, I promise.”

But Hilda puffed out a cheek, downright unamused. “I know better than to trust promises made by _ you. _ Come on—”

“Hilda!” A sharp call sounded from the entrance of the reception hall. Lysithea’s arms were still folded across her chest and her foot tapped on the floor in annoyance. Considering where she stood, she hadn’t seemed to have overheard their conversation, but she was clearly fed up with waiting for her friend. “Need I remind you that this was _ your _ idea? Are you coming or not?”

Hilda looked behind her to where Lysithea waited, and then back to Claude. Her commanding stance faltered, shoulders drooping but she frowned nevertheless. She pointed a finger at him and Claude felt that he could allow himself a laugh at her attempt to maintain a controlling mien. “You’d better not take too long, Claude!”

With that, Hilda ran off to join Lysithea and the other Golden Deer who had already vanished around the corner. Claude breathed a sigh of relief, the last of his disturbances finally out of his hair.

At last, it was just him and Byleth.

He jolted then, belatedly realizing he still held her wrist tightly between his fingers. He released her at once, withdrawing his hand and placing it on the table. Byleth watched him in silence at first and Claude found himself needing to look away from her stare, feeling like he was on fire. It was unusual for him to feel so anxious but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. If anything, the storm in his chest was simmering down into a light downpour. He offered for her to sit and she complied with a hum.

“Persistent, that one.” Claude said at last, needing to find some way to break the quiet. He wasn’t entirely sure why he started with that, bringing up his friends who he had been so desperately wanting to shoo off for the past couple of hours, but it broke the uncanny stress that had nestled its way between them.

Claude didn’t need to look at Byleth to know that she was smiling, her countenance audible when she replied. “I’m happy to see that she’s enjoying herself.”

Typical of her to be thinking about her friends before herself. Claude felt pride well up inside of him but he withheld a smirk when he thought about all the trouble Hilda had unknowingly caused. “Yeah…” He exhaled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Can’t be upset about that, I suppose.”

“So what did you need?”

“Buh?” He wanted to slap himself at the horrifically idiotic noise that he let escape his throat.

Claude’s head whipped around to face Byleth and he found her staring at him again. The smile he had heard in her voice had already vanished, her eyes wide and quizzical as she blinked at him, all doe-like. He hadn’t anticipated her to be so forward but realistically, he should have. Byleth had always been blunt, very curt and to the point. Even after she had started adopting new emotions to wear on her sleeve, that aspect of her character had never changed.

And it wasn’t as if she knew what Claude wanted to tell her, so of course she held no discretion.

“Didn’t you want to talk?” Byleth sounded reluctant when she reiterated, like she had made a mistake and Claude felt a pang of guilt assault him. The blame could be easily rectified, however, because the opportunity had at long last presented itself before him.

They were alone. Aside from the remaining small groups of soldiers scattered here and there throughout the hall, they were alone. There were no external forces that could interfere with Claude’s plan, no long talks about what shapes nobility and no thoughtful opinions on ever changing landscapes affected by seasons turning.

He could finally close the curtain on his damn near theatrical scheme.

He could confess to Byleth everything he felt for her, everything he adored, cherished, held impossibly close to his unsteady heartbeat.

But they weren’t in the right place. They weren’t at the Goddess Tower, the place where they had exchanged a shared wish on the night of that blasted ball, the place where he reunited with her after her five year slumber. It wasn’t as though he _ had _ to rendezvous with her at the tower, but it just felt right to do so, not to mention that his scheme specifically called for them to be there. There was no point in playing it by ear when he’d already laid all of his cards out.

Despite his perceptible resolve, Claude fumbled, the cloud of unease within him rumbling relentlessly once more.

“I… I kinda sprung this feast idea onto you and forced you to be on board. I hope that was alright.”

It was a genuine comment, one that he did want to call attention to at some point but Claude felt like screaming. It wasn’t like him to beat around the bush. It wasn’t like him to keep wasting precious minutes that he’d waited so long to acquire. It wasn’t like him to feel so unbelievably flustered, regardless of the circumstances. What the _ hell _ was happening?!

Entirely oblivious to Claude’s internal conflict, Byleth shook her head. “I admit I was surprised. You always take your scheming so seriously—”

Claude wanted to sink into the floor and suffocate.

“—but if you say that we can afford time off, then I trust you.”

He resurfaced from mentally drowning himself. It wasn’t like he had no idea about it; he had often conveyed his trust in Byleth but he had yet to hear her vocalize reciprocation. He didn’t necessarily need her to, knew by how she stayed by his side that she believed in him but being able to hear her speak the words “I trust you”… It felt nice.

“Besides, I really think this is what everyone needed. And… what I needed, too.” Byleth looked at her hands, set on top of one another in front of her. Her eyes were dull, lacking luster. There was little doubt in Claude’s mind that she was recalling the events at Gronder Field, contemplating their current positions in the war. “I was starting to forget what it was like to just sit and talk to everyone. It’s a pleasant feeling... I’m happy it’s still possible for us to have moments like this.”

She faced him and her smile returned. Her eyes glinted, lighting up, and Claude wanted to believe that it was because she got to take in the sight of him. It was then that he felt a warmth press against the back of his hand and when he glanced down, he found Byleth’s palm resting on it.

The temperature of his face flared up and he could feel the burn reach the tips of his ears. It was distracting, so distracting that he nearly missed Byleth’s voice. “Thank you, Claude.”

She hadn’t meant anything more with her words of gratitude, he knew that she hadn’t, but her touched seared into his skin, like a brand. Her words twisted around his heart, capturing it in a vice that would not break until the day he breathed his last. She dazzled him in the gentle light of the reception hall, as if she was made of starlight itself, and Claude soon discovered that he was holding his breath.

They had to leave. They had to go the Goddess Tower, lest he clumsily spilled his confession out right there and then.

Somehow, he successfully rose to his feet on wobbly legs and stepped out from the table bench. Byleth eyed him, perhaps confused at his lack of response, but quickly copied his movements. She must have figured that they were to head to the terrace on the third floor because she moved passed Claude again and toward the exit, but he reached for her hand.

“Say, my friend. Before we join up with Hilda and the others, there’s somewhere I wanna take you.” Claude had no idea how he pulled off saying his invitation without his voice faltering at least once. He decided to call it a win.

Byleth looked between her hand and Claude’s eyes, before settling on the latter. She appeared skeptical, probably not understanding what he meant by “somewhere”.

“Don’t worry, it’s within the monastery. And it’ll only take a few minutes to get there and back.” He managed a wink, which relaxed both Byleth and himself.

She nodded with a soft “alright” and Claude stepped in front of her, lifting the hand he held in front of their chests, as though he was about to lead her to a dance floor just as he had done many, many moons ago. He curled his fingers around hers, stroked the back of her hand with his thumb—

“Claude! Professor!”

—before they were forcibly torn apart.

A flurry of pink clothing materialized next to Claude and Byleth, ripping their hands away from each other. Completely taken aback by the unanticipated contact, Claude nearly yelped, but he managed to choke it down when he caught sight of what exactly had grabbed them. He fought the mounting urge to throw his head back and groan in irritation.

Hilda.

Wasting no time at all and giving neither of them an instant to process what was going on, Hilda tugged their arms, stomping her heels into the ground as she pulled. “Come with me! Right now!”

Any frustration and displeasure that had built up within Claude at Hilda’s third interruption of the night withdrew when he perceived the panic in both her voice and facial features. She spoke in a rush, as if she was mentally incapable of explaining why she ran all the way back to them, and her eyes were wide, like she had seen a corpse stand up from its grave. It shot a threatening chill down Claude’s spine.

Had she and the others spotted something from the terrace? Were enemy forces marching towards Garreg Mach? Was it an ambush? Had they witnessed someone taking injury?

Before any of that, Claude needed Hilda to calm down, needed her to articulate properly. Having her fall apart wouldn’t do anyone in the army any good if she couldn’t inform him of what was occuring outside. “Wait, hold on, what’s—”

Claude wasn’t able to ask any questions when he heard it. A delicate intake of breath, followed by a soft giggle that almost reached the state of a real laugh. The sound reminded him of a bird’s song, tender and sweet like a lullaby, and when he redirected his focus back to Byleth, he was left speechless at the sight of her bright eyed disposition.

She wasn’t looking at him, but at Hilda, an enchanting beam shining on her face once more. Claude didn’t understand, couldn’t make sense of Byleth actually _ giggling _ but also couldn’t discern what exactly was worth being happy about. His gaze jumped back to Hilda and after a second of further inspection, it became clear.

It hadn’t been fear that wove its way into Hilda’s voice and eyes, but unadulterated _ excitement. _

Hilda pulled on their hands again and that time Byleth took a step toward her. “No time! Terrace! Now! Hurry!”

There was no opportunity to argue. Not when Byleth looked back at him the way she did. “Let’s go.” Her voice was seraphic, otherworldly.

At that, Hilda released her hold on his hand, only for it to be replaced by Byleth’s, and the two women started running with Claude in tow.

The three of them ran from the reception hall, around the corner and up the first flight of stairs that needed crossing. They raced across the corridor of the second floor and entered the stairwell that would lead them to the terrace.

Through it all, a long forgotten, almost indignant emotion stirred within Claude as he begrudgingly allowed himself to be dragged behind them.

_ Ridiculous. _

What was this? What were they doing? Why were they chasing no one but themselves around the monastery? Because of some exciting event that occurred outside? Like anything his former classmates had seen would be worth noting to such a drastic degree. They always exaggerated everything. It was foolish. Absolutely absurd. He had better things to be doing. He was the leader of the Leicester Alliance, heir to the Almyran throne. He had dreams that he needed to see come to fruition. Needed to see those dreams come true with the one who he adored by his side. He didn’t have time to keep playing with his friends like he was still some child—

Claude’s thoughts grinded to a halt. His stare caught sight of the back of Hilda’s head as she led the way, skirted over to Byleth’s mint colored hair, before finally dropping and resting on his limp hand, caught in Byleth’s firm grasp. The chagrin that violently swirled within him slowed when reality returned to him.

When was the last time he had dashed around with people whom he considered “friends”? When was the last time he had ever played a naive game with people he held dear? Why was he unable to recall those memories from his past?

The truth of the matter was simple. He had never experienced such things in his adolescence, never would have in the present had he failed to encounter the catalyst that set everything Claude knew into a reaction so fierce, so enlightening that just thinking about it left him feeling light, floaty, lost in the clouds of his imagination.

He knew. Knew that if he hadn’t met Byleth, he would still be alone, would still be a forsaken child with no one to rely on. A child who cried in isolation, in the shadows, away from those who would point fingers at him and label him a coward, an outsider, a _ beast. _

If he hadn’t met Byleth, he would still be _ nothing. _

_ I love her. _

He knew his feelings, held them impossibly close to his heart, but the three words that came to him then struck Claude like a thunder spell and his head spun wildly.

He loved Byleth. He loved her voice and the way she spoke to him, as equals and as friends. Loved the way she moved in combat, how she could hold her ground and protect him should he ever need it. Loved how she looked at him, not as an outcast or as a monster, but as a _ person. _

He loved everything that made her _ her; _her smiles, her attitude, her beliefs. How she never gave in to despair, no matter the trials she faced. How her body always seemed to perfectly catch the sunlight that cast itself onto her incomparable beauty, like it existed solely to accentuate her very being.

He loved her.

Yet she didn’t know.

Hilda’s voice cut into Claude’s reverie but she wasn’t speaking to him. “Leonie! Is it still happening?”

The trio had reached the third floor and jogged down the final corridor that led to the terrace. From his position, Claude spotted Leonie near the doorway. She angled her face to the side but didn’t look at them as she called back. “Yep! Looks like it’s not stopping any time soon!”

“Is what still happening?” The question tumbled out of Claude before he even realized. They were outside, exposed to the night. The candle flames from indoors cast an orange glow at their feet but it didn’t stretch very far before it too meshed with the darkness.

Hilda no longer clutched Byleth’s hand, choosing instead to leap next to Ignatz who was situated to the left of the entrance. When Claude panned his sight around the terrace, he noticed that his friends all had their heads tilted back, looking upward. Having received no reply to his question, he followed their gaze, hoping to find an answer—

He unashamedly gasped, and he could have sworn he heard Byleth do the same next to him.

Brilliant lights streaked across the sky, as though they were trying to craft a painting by using the heavens above as a canvas. There were so many, too many of them to count. The twinkling gems that remained stationary alongside the luminous strokes shone in a subtle multi-colored array, harmonizing with the descending lights in an idyllic symphony.

Falling stars. It hadn’t been the first time Claude had seen them, but it had been the first time he’d seen them in Fódlan.

From in front of him, he could hear Lysithea, could see how she bounced on her toes in what could only have been unreserved delight. “To think I’d get to witness such a rare occurrence!”

Beside her, Lorenz let out an amused chuckle. “Indeed! It is quite exhilarating that we’ve been granted the privilege on a night such as this.”

Every other Deer was caught in their own conversations: Hilda requested confirmation from Ignatz on whether or not he was inspired to create a new art piece, Leonie and Raphael simple-mindedly but appreciatively pointed out how pretty and interesting the sky looked, while Marianne joined Lysithea and Lorenz, agreeing that she was blessed to have been able to behold the phenomenon with friends.

Claude looked to the woman next to him, to Byleth.

Her mouth hung open, eyes sparkling in both amazement and disbelief. He’d never seen her wear such an expression before and his hand tried to curl into a fist, as if he wanted to capture the sight and safely store it away forevermore.

But his hand wouldn’t close, _ couldn’t _ close, not when it still held onto Byleth’s.

She felt his unintentional squeeze and it drew her attention. Her head turned to face him, her look bright and sunny. Claude didn’t know what to expect, didn’t know what Byleth would do or say. But what he heard from her next was so wholesome, so guileless and candid, he wondered if she would have felt foolish having spoken it to anyone who wasn’t him.

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if one fell close enough for us to catch?”

It was a silly thing to say, nothing more than a youth’s wish, but it didn’t stop Claude’s sharp intake of breath. Each time a star dropped, it flickered light onto Byleth’s hair, face, her entire body in a continuous rhythm, the vestiges of each one seemingly being absorbed into her skin every time they passed.

She was glowing. She was breathtaking. She was a fallen star, one that Claude had been lucky enough to catch five years ago, on that day in Remire Village.

She was _ everything. _

“I love you.”

Claude didn’t know he had spoken even as his own words touched his ears. It wasn’t until Byleth’s smile faltered, her eyes growing wide that he realized he had slipped up.

So much for privacy and the Goddess Tower; it seemed his glorious scheme had failed after all.

He thought that he didn’t need Byleth to reciprocate his love. Didn’t need her to even understand love, or how deeply Claude’s own ran. He knew her well, knew that if she didn’t return his affections, she would treat him as she always had, wouldn’t pity him or guilt herself over the lack of mutual understanding. He felt the same, knew that as long as he could stay by her side until the end of the war, he would be okay. They would still be friends, could always stay as friends.

But in that moment, he truly despised the idea of having to refer to her as “my friend” for the rest of his days.

Byleth remained unresponsive to his confession and Claude repressed the feeling of his heart sinking, managing to force a grin. He wouldn’t play it off as a joke, knew that Byleth wouldn’t believe him anyway, but he needed to leave. He was grateful that, if anything, she had gotten the chance to relax thanks to the feast, and he wouldn’t take her tranquility away by fracturing in front of her.

He moved to bend his elbow and withdraw his hand from hers—

But Byleth’s fingers laced with his. Claude was perplexed by the sensation and had to glance down at her hold to comprehend it, before returning his sights to her face. Her smile had returned, as if it had never left, and her eyes softened, glittering with nothing but warmth and trust and joy.

Byleth didn’t speak, but fallen stars didn’t need to in order to make dreams come true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by "Golden Deer" I meant "Hilda" akjdka this whole debacle was just an excuse for me to bully Claude
> 
> I didn't reread this one much, so apologies if I missed any mistakes when I was editing. I don't have much to say about this that I didn't already mention in the Chapter 1 notes so uh yeah! thanks if you made it to the end & I hope you enjoyed?
> 
> I have a [twitter](https://twitter.com/toast_ryu) please scream at me about Claude/Byleth or anything FE16 related, I'm in this hell with no friends & I'm SAD.


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